An Era of Marauding: Year One
by mister moony
Summary: Ideally, this is a seven piece work detailing the years in which the Marauders attended Hogwarts. It's carried through the eyes of Remus Lupin, and therefore begins on a particularly dull July day at St. Mungo's. Be kind and review.
1. A Life Less Sought

St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.  
  
Remus Lupin was eleven years old, and already had every floor, ward, and residing Healer's name in the hospital memorized. He knew every person's name in the "permanent resident" section and was on a first name basis with easily half of the staff and patients. He was even close enough friends with the plump, blue-haired witch that ran the kitchen that he never left the hospital with less than a tight belt at no expense to his measly amount of pocket change.  
  
Remus, as he looked at it, was not sick. He was average height for his age, bordering on being scrawny (though it was nothing that couldn't be cured with a week's worth of solid meals) with knotty shoulders and knees, but he was neither starved nor stunted. His hair was shaggy and a shade of sandy-blond, shrouding his brow, tops of his ears, and sometimes (when he could avoid the attention of his mother long enough) just long enough to hide a good portion of his gray-blue eyes. His skin was tight on his bones, but aside from the skinny appearance, he seemed to be a perfectly normal, eleven-year-old boy.  
  
There were two things that made Remus very abnormal, however.  
  
Remus's parents were the origin of the first abnormality: his mother was a witch and his father was a wizard. They had both attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as children, and were employed at the Ministry of Magic (a governing body in the wizarding world charged with making and enforcing laws, managing standards of magic-use, and finally, hiding the existence of wizards from Muggles -- people who could not perform magic).  
  
As the son of a practicing witch and wizard, there was little doubt at Remus's birth that he would be a wizard as well, and as his powers began to manifest as a child, his parents began to save and prepare for the year in which Remus would be accepted at Hogwarts and go to learn magic when he became of age; eleven.  
  
It was the second abnormality that had Remus so familiar with St. Mungo's and that had him certain that he, despite his parent's and his own most sincere wishes, would never attend Hogwarts.  
  
Remus Lupin was a werewolf.  
  
He'd been bitten two years prior, and ever since then had been becoming a werewolf the night of the full moon every month like clockwork.  
  
His parents, distraught and desperate, had been scourging the wizarding world, looking for a cure for Remus's "disease." His mother resigned from the Ministry to dedicate more time to dragging Remus about to every known healer, and Remus' entire savings for school had been poured into costs for cure-alls and different efforts in helping him.  
  
Two years of hags, healers, nauseating potions, procedures, shots, and every thing else conceivable later, Remus was tired of it.  
  
Werewolves were feared in the magical community; scorned and outcasted. He had no hope of ever leading a normal life (who would ever hire, teach, marry, or even befriend a werewolf?) and had reserved himself to his bad stroke of fate, something his parents, unfortunately for Remus, refused to do.  
  
It was his parent's stubborn refusal to accept their son's malady that found Remus stuck at St. Mungo's for the third time in a month on a bright, sunny, July afternoon.  
  
Madam Higgenwald, the Healer in charge of the ward Remus had been admitted to (First Floor - Creature-induced Injuries), was standing on the far side of the broad, open room. His mother was standing with her, and the two of them were speaking in hushed tones about the properties of the Draught of Lacinta and its tested results on werewolves in the past. Remus kept to himself, settled silently on one of the many beds that lined the room's walls, perched patiently upright with his head turned toward the nearest window. The curtains had been thrown open, but the window was shut fast. Still, warm rays of sunlight were creeping in and warming his cheeks, proving as suitable distraction -- at least for the time being.  
  
He was not interested in the two witches' conversation or perhaps he might have tried to listen. Instead, he was staring absently out the window, wishing for the freedom to stride out of the hospital and into the beckoning sunlight.  
  
If he shut his eyes, he could imagine himself in a quiet countryside, lounging beneath the limbs of an old oak tree while he read, untroubled by his malady or with the fact that his parents were broke trying to cure him. If he imagined hard enough, he could even nudge out his increasing lonesomeness and forget his disappointment that he would never be accepted into a school that thought him dangerous.  
  
Something changed.  
  
A shadow had passed over Remus's face, and with a slight frown, curiosity getting the best of him, he was forced to let go of his day dream, open his eyes, and focus attention on the window instead.  
  
Remus blinked.  
  
The window blinked back.  
  
Giving a start, he realized it was not the window that had blinked but a feathery, round head instead. A large, tawny, barn owl was perched outside the window, a yellow-brown envelope clutched in its beak in a way that let its face be read.  
  
Printed neatly in green handwriting, the front read:  
  
Mr. Remus Lupin  
  
St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries  
  
First Floor; eighth window  
  
Remus had received post by owl his entire life, so there really was no shock in seeing the large bird with a letter for him.  
  
It was the peculiar way in which the letter was addressed that caused alarm for Remus. Usually, just the name "Remus Lupin" was sufficient for any intelligent owl to find him, and in the case of family owls, only the name "Remus" was necessary.  
  
Whoever sent the letter, however, had felt it necessary to write out the entire address to insure it was carried to him (nevermind how whoever it was knew where he was down to the last window -- the entire thing was odd).  
  
A hesitant glance was cast backward towards his mom and the Healer before, pushing to his feet, he strode to the window, unfastened its latch, and opened it. The owl hooted in an indignant manner, holding its large head slowly outward so that Remus could take the letter. He'd no sooner done so than the bird spread its great wings and took off again.  
  
Casting an estranged look down on the foreign handwriting that scrawled across the envelope's face, he carefully tilted the envelope over. His heart and stomach promptly did a synchronized back flip. A purple, wax seal held the envelope closed, marked by a lion, a serpent, a badger, and an eagle, all guarding a large letter "H."  
  
Sliding a finger beneath the flap, the seal was broken and the envelope's contents revealed; two sheets of the same heavy paper that the envelope was made of, written on by the same, green text. Fumbling with his haste, the first of the letters was tugged free and unfolded, allowing for Remus' reading.  
  
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY  
  
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)  
  
Dear Mr. Lupin,  
  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
  
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.  
  
Yours sincerely,  
  
Minerva McGonagall  
  
Deputy Headmistress  
  
P.S. Due to your condition, a meeting with Headmaster Dumbledore will be required prior to the beginning of term. Please send a meeting time and place that would be acceptable for you with your owl if you plan on attending.  
  
Remus couldn't believe it. His heart was skipping joyously, lodged somewhere up between the walls of his esophagus, and he read the letter through two more times before lurching from bed, feeling the happiest and healthiest he'd felt in two years.  
  
"Mum!" he cried as he righted himself, eagerly waving the letter as he moved in haste toward her and Madam Higgenwald.  
  
Both witches jumped slightly at the outcry and sudden movement from the boy who, characteristically, rarely spoke, and even more rarely moved at a speed greater than that of a sloth.  
  
"What is it, Remus, dear?" His mother responded in her best patronizing tone. She'd learned it in the first year of Remus' being a werewolf, as then, he'd been prone to sudden outcries of why he had to be so unlucky.  
  
Managing up alongside the two with a faint furrow of his brow at the patronizing tone to his mother's voice, the letter was waved furiously in front of her. "It's from Hogwarts! I was accepted!"  
  
Madam Higgenwald was the first to come out of the dazed silence the two women had both fallen into at such an exclamation. "...no, honey, you know that you're a werewolf and that no school has ever admitted one. I'm sorry..."  
  
Cutting the witch off -- again a very uncharacteristic thing for Remus to do -- he shook his head slightly in emphasis, shoving the letter into his disbelieving mother's hands. "They know I'm a werewolf. They even mention it in the letter -- it just says that I have to talk to Headmaster Dumbledore before term starts and everything should be okay..."  
  
Reflexively, his mother's fingers tightened around the parchment, bringing it upward so that she could read it for herself. Madam Higgenwald leaned aside to read over his mother's shoulder, and a few seconds of agonizing silence followed as the two read the letter.  
  
Remus watched with a pounding heart, praying that he hadn't somehow read the letter incorrectly. It was true, no school in the history of wizardry had ever accepted a werewolf, as they were considered dangerous to other students, but Hogwarts had accepted him. Albus Dumbledore seemed to be the first and only person in Remus' short life willing to give him a chance.  
  
Remus' mother's hands were trembling as she finished the letter, and when she lowered it, tears of pride brimming in her eyes, he knew that he had read the letter right.  
  
He was going to Hogwarts. 


	2. Albus Dumbledore

2  
  
Remus's father had been just as pleased as his mother at the news, and while both parents had expressed their concern at what sort of discrimination Remus might face at school, trusted the headmaster enough to look out for him. As Remus learned, Dumbledore had been the headmaster when they had attended school, and was widely regarded as the best headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen.  
  
Remus's mother had insisted that they go home and speak to his father before sending an owl back insuring that he would be attending, and while the subject of money being tight was a problem with Remus going, it was agreed that he would be allowed to go, assuming that Dumbledore could keep the other students safe when it was the full moon.  
  
An owl had been sent promptly afterward, citing August 25th as the appropriate meeting date with Dumbledore, as Remus and his mother would be visiting Diagon Alley to shop for his school supplies and that they could easily meet at the Leaky Cauldron to discuss any additional procedures that Remus would have to undergo.  
  
Unfortunately, August 25th was exactly a month away, and Remus still had the rest of the summer to go through, which meant continued visits to different Healers and far too much time spent at St. Mungo's.  
  
Summer dragged on with seeming endless delight at Remus' want for the coming of September, and while the note of response from Hogwarts stating that Dumbledore would meet with him at the Leaky Cauldron on August the 25th at 2 o'clock lifted his spirits considerably, he still found himself pacing holes in the house's carpet and marking off dates on every calendar in the household.  
  
He marked one particular calendar in the main hall so many times that it finally became irritated at his approach, unfastened itself from the wall, and began scurrying by its pages across the floor, making a break for the window.  
  
After that, his mother had restricted him to marking only the one in his room -- and once a day (Remus had sketched small hour markers on the calendars in preparation and found himself waking up every hour, even at night, to perform his mark-offs on time), something that cut off Remus's methods of killing time considerably.  
  
Much to his (and the calendars') relief, the 25th came, and at 1:50, his mother called him into the living room. He came promptly, busily smoothing out a wrinkle in the worn and frayed clothes he donned (very few of Remus' clothes were nice, as his violent changes into a werewolf left his clothes in tatters) while he moved.  
  
"Now remember, honey, this is your Headmaster. First impressions are key! And...don't let his abnormalities startle you. He really is a genius -- a genius." She turned as she spoke to Remus, absently patting down her own clothes as she moved across to the fireplace. "Just imagine. My son going off to Hogwarts! I had given up...oh, nevermind. Come quickly, Remus, we don't want to be late."  
  
A month's worth of his mother's proud chattering had Remus used to it, and he ignored it for the most part (if he'd listened, it might have just made him more nervous), simply maneuvering to the fireplace and plucking up the small urn of crystal-like powder they had set on the floor next to it.  
  
Most fireplaces in the wizarding community were connected to a "Floo-network," a way in which wizards traveled by throwing the powder into the fire, stepping inside, and shouting their desired location. They were then promptly taken to the corresponding fireplace, unscathed, even if a bit wind-blown.  
  
Scooping out a hand-full of the Floo powder, Remus handed the urn off to his mother who did the same.  
  
"Speak clearly now, Remus."  
  
"I know, Mum. I've done this before," he responded in a patient tone before tossing the Floo powder into the fire and following it. Hesitating, he held his breath and said "The Leaky Cauldron."  
  
Instantly, his mother and their household vanished into a blur of fireplaces and light. When the spinning halted, Remus stepped out into a dimly lit tavern, crowded with chattering witches and wizards as they nursed drinks of all kinds.  
  
Coughing up a bit of soot, he busied himself in dusting off his clothes and hair until his mother joined him, patting herself down as she moved.  
  
"Let's head to a table near the back. Lots of the Daily Prophet's folk hang around here, and I doubt Dumbledore wants you to become their next story," she stated lightly, placing a guiding hand on Remus' shoulder and steering him towards the back.  
  
It would seem as though Dumbledore had read her mind, as was he not only in the Leaky Cauldron already, waiting on them, but he was situated at a table that was quite out of easy hearing range of any of the currently occupied tables.  
  
Dumbledore was a tall, lanky man, bent over in his seat as if his back had seen one too many years and was paying for it with a hunch. His hair was long and silver-gray, matching an equally long beard of the same, thick, color. His eyes had a sparkling blue tint, but were hidden behind the thin frames of half-moon spectacles. He wore a robe of deep blue with a matching hat, and had Remus' mother not tightened her hold on his shoulder before lurching forward to offer Dumbledore her hand, he would have never given him a second look.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore! It's marvelous to see you again!"  
  
He offered a benign smile, shaking her hand gently as he spoke, but his eyes were fixed on Remus, glistening as if with amusement. "Aelia. It's been a while. I assume this is Remus?"  
  
Mrs. Lupin nodded hastily, reaching out to beckon Remus closer. "Yes, and we can't thank you enough. With his sickness, we never could even hope..."  
  
Dumbledore tutted rather suddenly, cutting her off as Remus maneuvered to the table as suggested. "Now, now. I don't think we should consider it a sickness by any means. Even I get rather grumpy and irritable once a month -- that being when the house-elves serve meatloaf and asparagus. Unfortunately, that particular entree is a favorite of the Ravenclaw Head-of-House and I might find myself at the wrath of the Charms Master if I were to remove it from the menu. Alas, I must go without. Just because Remus here sprouts a little hair when he becomes grumpy and irritable does not mean he is sick."  
  
He winked at Remus beneath his glasses.  
  
Remus liked him already.  
  
"Please," Dumbledore went on, motioning out to the two chairs opposite him. "Sit."  
  
Remus did so with little hesitation, simply keeping eye contact with the aged wizard as his mother sank down, slightly put-off by being corrected in such a way.  
  
"Butterbeer?" He inquired in a light, carefree tone. As if on command, three tankards of the warm, sweet liquid materialized on the table, situated in front of its three occupants, just within reach.  
  
"I'm not allowed to --" Remus began. He'd not been allowed sweets or forms of "junk food" ever since he was bitten, as his mother seemed to be of the persuasion that maybe if Remus kept his diet healthy, he might somehow get over it on his own immune system.  
  
His mother cut him off with a slightly higher-pitched tone than she normally used, as if she was frightened that Dumbledore might reprimand her again for the restrictions she'd inflicted upon her son. "Remus, you'll be going off to school soon, and I can't very well control what you eat and drink while you're there. I'll leave it up to your own good judgment from now on."  
  
There was an instant of awkward silence in which Remus felt both sets of eyes on him fully, evaluating his response. Dumbledore's gaze gave him strength, though, and after a beat of hesitation, he reached forward, curled fingers about the tankard's handle, and pulled it to him.  
  
"I'll drink it."  
  
His mother seemed irate, even if she wouldn't say so.  
  
Dumbledore simply smiled before mimicking Remus' gesture and lifting his mug. "Then allow me to propose a toast." He tilted his mug slightly toward Remus before continuing. "To new beginnings."  
  
The faintest shadow of a smile traced Remus' normally haggard features before he lifted his own mug and clinked it lightly against Dumbledore's.  
  
He was about to withdraw his mug to take a drink when he realized Dumbledore was keeping his mug in the air, watching Remus' mother very patiently. A bit confused, Remus kept his mug in the air, as well, until he got the picture.  
  
Aelia was eyeing her mug very suspiciously now, as if her thoughts about Dumbledore were beginning to diminish with every word he spoke. She had not lifted her tankard at the suggested toast.  
  
Finally, the weight of Dumbledore's needling eyes getting the best of her, she hastily raised the tankard and clinked it to the two before forcing down a very small sip.  
  
Dumbledore raised his bushy eyebrows to Remus then helped himself to a very large drink from his mug.  
  
Remus took his cue from Dumbledore and did the same.  
  
Seemingly much more settled after the drink, Dumbledore lowered his tankard to the table, and leaned backward with a faint fading to his smile, getting down to business. "Now, there are two important things I need to discuss with you, one of which, and I apologize Aelia, I will need to speak to Remus alone about.  
  
"The first is security. As you both know, and as unfortunate as it is, werewolves are not generally accepted in the wizarding community, and there is not a single parent that has a child attending Hogwarts that would be comfortable with their son or daughter being in such close proximity to one.  
  
"With that in mind, Remus, it is necessary that you do not tell anyone about what you are. Your teachers will know as required so that they do not come unwound when you miss class from time to time, but aside from the faculty, no one at Hogwarts must know."  
  
He hesitated there, pausing to eye his tankard before stating with a faint, disapproving softening of his tone. "While I might have the power to accept those that I wish into the school, the school board has the power to expel those who they wish, and if that were to happen, I would have no strength to defend you."  
  
Finally, his attention settled on Remus' mother again. "That in mind, are there any friends of the family -- healers and doctors aside -- that know of Remus' condition?"  
  
She paused slightly before nodding.  
  
"Then they must not know that Remus is attending Hogwarts. I do hope that they do not have children that might attend..." He trailed off there, watching her, but she was quick to shake her head. Remus had never really had another child as a friend, so was fully aware that most of his parents' friends did not have children. "Very, well, then. Simply say that Remus' is away with healers, as I'm certain that that has happened plenty of times in the past. That said, I must speak to Remus alone."  
  
Aelia huffed irritably at being dismissed, but obeyed. She rose hastily, pulling her purse about in front of her before dropping a hand into it and fishing about. "After you're finished here, Remus, go to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Just tell her you're fitting for Hogwarts and she'll get what you need for you. If I still haven't shown up by then, go to Ollivander's and get yourself a wand. I'll meet up with you after I've bought the rest of your supplies." Withdrawing her hand finally, a handful of Galleons (large, round, gold coins) and Sickles (smaller, silver ones) was handed over to him.  
  
She gave a curt nod to Dumbledore, and stamped off, slightly red faced and leaving a very confused Remus behind.  
  
He paused for a long moment before shifting and depositing the coins within his pocket as directed.  
  
"I won't keep you long," Dumbledore spoke up again, earning Remus' attention. "Do you know what a Whomping Willow is, Remus?"  
  
Stirring slightly at the question, he sat up, clearing his throat. "Yes, sir. It's a large, violent species of tree known for attacking anything that gets within the reach of its limbs or roots."  
  
Dumbledore's brows arched slightly at the suddenly brandished intelligence behind the tired-looking boy before speaking. "Very good, Professor Sprout would be proud."  
  
Remus blinked. "Professor Sprout, sir?"  
  
"She will be your Herbology teacher this term. New to the staff but quite competent. She will also be Hufflepuff's head of house," he explained with a minute wave of his hand. "But that is not a subject to be discussed here. The fact is, in preparation for your time at Hogwarts, I had a Whomping Willow brought to and planted on the school grounds under the guise of study. It is situated directly atop an underground passage that leads to Hogsmeade, a neighboring village.  
  
"The passage leads into an old house I've procured in my long life that is boarded up and enchanted so that no one may get in or out, unless through that single passage, which, coincidentally, is guarded by a very intimidating Whomping Willow. Ideally, every month, you will be smuggled down the passage and into the house to undergo your transformation without endangering yourself or your peers. When the transformation is over, you can return to the school, make up your homework, and go about life as normal. How does that sound?"  
  
It sounded wonderful, truthfully, but Remus saw one problem. "Won't people notice I leave every month?"  
  
Dumbledore sucked on his teeth for a moment before nodding. "Yes, unfortunately. Your teachers will cover for you, of course, but it will be up to you to make your excuses believable to your classmates." Dumbledore hesitated there, an odd, grinning twinkle in his eyes. "Be creative."  
  
Remus couldn't quite get rid of the pensive frown, but he nodded in understanding, despite.  
  
"Now, then," Dumbledore rose from his seat at that, the tankards of butterbeer vanishing as he did so. "I do believe you have some school supplies to get, yes? I'll see you in a week."  
  
Remus nodded and stood, looking up just in time to see Dumbledore vanish with a slight, whip-like crack that made a few heads turn in Remus' direction. Shaking off a bit of the shock at the sudden exit, Remus buried his hands in his pockets where the weight of his money was situated before turning and falling into stride for the back of the Leaky Cauldron. 


	3. Diagon Alley

3  
  
Hidden far from the muggle eye in London was the most highly trafficked wizarding shopping center in all of Britain, Diagon Alley. It had a single, large street (though various smaller ones connected to it) that was surrounded on all sides by buildings and shops, and was ever crowded with bustling witches and wizards.  
  
The clamor of voices, carts, and owls was almost overwhelming at first, but Remus's excitement about the upcoming school year drowned out the sounds into a small buzz in the back of his mind. He maneuvered along the streets in a bit of a content daze, resisting the urge to enter shops at random and rid himself of a few sickles (he was certain his mother wouldn't notice if he was missing a couple), until he came upon a quaint, brightly lit shop with a wooden sign hanging over the door that had a picture of a finely dressed witch, along with the words "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions" scrawled across its face.  
  
Bracing a shoulder, he pushed the door open and stepped inside, the sounds of Diagon Alley fading to a dull whisper on the other side of the door. A bell, which had been situated over the door in a very muggle-isque manner, rang out as he stepped inside, prompting the appearance of a flushed-looking, young witch's face through a curtain in the back.  
  
She took one look at Remus before shouting over her shoulder. "We've got another one, Mum. First year, too, I'd say."  
  
"Hogwarts?" A slightly older, female voice from the back asked.  
  
The younger witch simply gave Remus a questioning look, and he was quick to nod.  
  
"Yea', he's goin' to Hogwarts."  
  
"Go ahead and send him back to me."  
  
Remus remained rooted, watching the younger witch in indecision until she snapped slightly, pulling the curtain apart for him. "Well? Wha'cha' standing there for? Get in with you."  
  
Moving at that, he darted through the curtains as directed to find himself in a larger, still brightly lit room. Two, large, wooden platforms were situated in the center, and there was one boy that looked to be about Remus's age situated on top of one platform, wearing much-too-long robes.  
  
A portly, pleasant-faced witch was bustling about below him, making adjustments with flicks of her wand. "Just get up there on the platform, deary, and let me take a look at you."  
  
The boy, who looked quite ruffled, lifted his eyes momentarily. He was a little taller than Remus, a bit thicker as well, but not round in the least. His features were defined and almost aristocratic (old blood, Remus assumed) and his eyes a soulful color of deep brown. He regarded Remus for a moment before offering a very faint, friendly smile. "Going to Hogwarts this year?"  
  
Remus doubted the boy had not heard the witch's shouts of affirmation to that question, but accepted the inquiry for what it was -- an effort at starting up polite conversation. He couldn't have been more pleased. Clambering up onto the platform the witch had directed him to, he stood straight while she took a moment away from fitting the other boy to walk around him, murmuring to herself.  
  
"Yeah, you?"  
  
"Yeah. M'name's Sirius. What's yours?"  
  
"Remus."  
  
Sirius gave a faint nod of acknowledgement, furrowing his brow for a moment. "I'd offer a hand, but she put a squirm-resistant charm on me. Said I was movin' too much." A slight, drolling glare was cast in the direction of the witch, but she simply ignored it, continuing to circle Remus who gave an unconscious gulp and held very still.  
  
"You have any relatives at Hogwarts?" Sirius asked at length.  
  
"No," Remus provided after a pause of consideration. "My parents went a while back, but most of my family lives in the U.S...." Remus braced himself. Most old-blood children would make a remark about not being from England.  
  
He only provided a slight, understanding nod. "Must be nice, not having all that family on your back. I have to be related...to half of Hogwarts, now. People put too much of a price on old wizarding blood, if you ask me."  
  
The witch had finished with Remus's visual assessment now, and returned to Sirius. "Just relax for a piece, boy, let me finish with him and get him on his way."  
  
Ignoring the witch as she went back to work on his robes, Sirius spoke up again. "So no family. You have any friends that are there now?"  
  
Remus shook his head, albeit a bit slowly this time.  
  
"That's too bad. You might just have to hang around me a bit, then, what do you say? I can show you around. The way my family's talked, I must know the castle inside and out, now."  
  
For a moment, Remus hesitated, then the first inklings of a smile began to creep across his features. "I'd like that."  
  
"You're done. Off," The witch ordered, flicking her wand and apparently releasing Sirius from the charm.  
  
Sirius hopped down, shifting his shoulders in his now nicely fitting robes. "Well, I guess I'll see you at Hogwarts."  
  
"Bye," said Remus, watching the black-haired boy retreat through the curtains and out front.  
  
When Remus looked back, the witch was approaching him with a particularly large looking robe. "Now, just hold still and this'll be done in a flash."  
  
----------------------------  
  
A flash, a few minutes of uncomfortable motionlessness, and a lessening of the weight in his pockets later, Remus was leaving Madam Malkin's with a few packages in his hands. He'd come out of it with three black robes, one pointed hat, a pair of dragon-hide gloves, and a heavy, black cloak with silver fastens.  
  
His mother was not outside the shop, and so after asking for directions from an older wizard in a tall, green, top hat, he headed off down a smaller street in search of the wand-shop known as Ollivander's.  
  
Finally, the dusty, run-down shop was located, and after casting a reluctant glance in through the darkened, grimy windows, Remus forced himself to enter. The inside of the building was crowded (by shelves and boxes, not people), dark, and filled with the musty scent one might associate with a library.  
  
Remus was on the verge of voicing his presence in hope of seeing a worker when a low, scratchy voice came from his left elbow.  
  
"Hello."  
  
Jumping forward in a bolt, Remus rotated about to find a gangly, haggard looking old wizard staring at him pensively, sizing him up. "H-hullo."  
  
"A Lupin, eh? Your father bought his wand here," the man began, beady eyes still skimming up and down Remus as he spoke. "Thirteen inches, yew and dragon-heart string. Never met your mum, though. I suppose you'll be needing a wand for Hogwarts?"  
  
Remus provided a slightly meek, intimidated nod, resisting the urge to step back further. "Y-yes, sir."  
  
"Very well, then, hold out your wand arm."  
  
Sticking out his left arm with a slight jerk, Remus kept himself distanced, watching as Ollivander retrieved a measuring tape from within his robes, set it in the air, and let it begin measuring Remus at its whim. Turning, Ollivander retreated to a small stepladder and began rummaging through boxes. "Your measurements are very peculiar for someone of your stature, boy. You might be a difficult one..hm..yes, here."  
  
He retrieved a box and came back down the ladder, fumbling as he opened it and pulled out a short, thick wand. Pushing it into Remus's hands, he gave a quick nod. "Spruce and phoenix feather, seven inches. Odd combination for odd measurements. Go ahead. Try it."  
  
Nodding gradually, Remus obeyed the order and flicked his wrist. He'd barely followed through the motion before Ollivander jerked the wand from his hand and went back to the stacks of boxes, muttering to himself.  
  
It took almost two minutes for Ollivander to return the second time, and he seemed even less sure of his decision this time than the first. The wand that he pulled out this time was longer and thinner, resembling a wand whereas the last one had resembled a club. "Willow and unicorn hair, eleven inches. Don't take all day, boy, wave it."  
  
Remus liked the feel of this one much more as he took it, and as he waved it in obedience, a sparkling rainbow of blue, green, and purple light erupted to streak through the air and fall harmlessly to the floor.  
  
Ollivander still didn't seem pleased. He rolled back on his heels, sucking his teeth apprehensively before he finally gave in and ceased his near-silent muttering. "So curious. I almost wish we'd not stopped carrying them..."  
  
"Carrying what, sir?"  
  
"Wands made with hairs from a werewolf's head."  
  
Remus's heart sank. "W-why do you say that?"  
  
"Well, the ruddy things are temperamental, just like werewolves, I reckon," Ollivander explained, plucking up the box and wandering toward the old-fashioned cash register he had situated between stacks of more wands. "Very hard to sell, as they don't like very many wizards. But you.. I think one would have suited you marvelously. I'd send you somewhere else, if I knew anyone that carried them, but we've all stopped since there's not a market. That wand will be fine for you, but if you ever happen to come across a werewolf while he's sleeping, don't hesitate to pluck a hair from its head and bring it back. I'll make you a fine wand..."  
  
Blushing profusely and attempting to change the subject of the conversation, Remus paid six gold galleons for his wand, thanked Mr. Ollivander, and left the store as quickly as he could.  
  
----------------------------  
  
The next day was marked by the full moon, so Remus barely had the time to recover, catch up on his rest, and get a few good meals under his belt before August 31 was upon him and his parents were making preparations to take him into London the next day.  
  
Every Hogwarts student met at King's Cross Station in London on September 1 and boarded the school train, the Hogwarts Express, to get to school. Remus' ticket (complete with time of departure, station name, and platform number) had come with the letter from Dumbledore a few weeks prior, as well as a letter to parents reminding them to not purchase ties or scarves in house colors, as the children were yet to be sorted and there was a chance that they would be put into a house different from that which their parents had been in.  
  
Hogwarts had four houses; Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw. Remus' mother had been a Hufflepuff, but his father had been a Ravenclaw, a house known for wisdom and sharp wit. If there was any house Remus had to choose to be in, it was Ravenclaw, as it seemed the best fit for him.  
  
He wasn't necessarily brave or courageous like Gryffindors, he wasn't cunning and sly like Slytherins, and he wasn't remarkably just or loyal like Hufflepuffs. He did consider himself sharp of mind, however, so Ravenclaw seemed to be where he'd be placed.  
  
Remus was considering that fact late into the early hours of morning, unable to sleep due to a strange mixture of excitement and anxiety. For the first time in his life, he was going to be able to decide things for himself without the weight of what he could and could not do as a werewolf being tossed before him at every instant.  
  
He loved his parents, but felt that he should be trying to live as normally as possible if he ever wanted to be happy, and they both seemed quite bent on not working toward him having a normal childhood. At Hogwarts, as long as he stayed within the school's rules, he'd be able to decide things for himself; what he ate, when he slept. It was a relieving, exhilarating, and at the same time frightening thought.  
  
He wasn't aware he ever fell asleep, but four hours later, the voice of his mother outside his door was enough to signal he had. "Remus! We leave in an hour! Come down and eat something!"  
  
Remus stirred groggily for a moment, prying open his eyes before promptly closing them again. Light was streaming in from his window and across his bed, bright and promising, but he wasn't quite up for staring into the sun when his eyes had seen nothing but the back of his eyelids for the past few hours. Struggling out from under his blankets in a partial daze, hands were raised and rubbed fiercely across his countenance before fingers were directed through his tangled mass of hair.  
  
"Up!" Aelia Lupin's voice came again from outside the door, and this time, she even ventured to knock on it a few times.  
  
"I'm up, Mum," he spoke toward the door, doing his best to restrain a yawn. The last thing he needed was a lecture on his sleeping habits the day he left for school.  
  
Ten minutes later, a fully dressed, washed, and awake Remus wandered down the short flight of stairs from his room and into the downstairs den, but he hesitated just short of the doorway into the kitchen as he heard his parent's voices from the other room.  
  
"I tell you, Aelia," it was Remus's father. "That's the third from the Department of Muggle Relations in two months."  
  
The Department of Muggle Relations was a portion of the Ministry of Magic that dealt with the few muggles that were knowledgeable about the wizarding world, Remus knew that much, but as for what the "third" was, he had no idea.  
  
"What do they think is happening to them?" His mother questioned with a slight quake to her voice.  
  
There was a scraping of a chair across the floor as if someone had sat down.  
  
"The Aurors were called in for a meeting with the Minister of Magic this morning."  
  
"A dark wizard, then?"  
  
"I can't possibly think that one dark wizard is behind all of this. A collection, maybe," Mr. Lupin murmured quietly to himself, almost as if he was considering as he spoke.  
  
Remus opened his mouth slightly but thought better of it. Fortunately, his mother voiced his question. "A group? Aren't the Aurors supposed to prevent things like that? What has the Department of Magical Standards been doing all this time? They'd notice the use of dark magic!"  
  
His father made a slight noise of disdain and his mother's voice softened slightly to a tone that was more difficult to hear, but she continued. "How can something like that have escalated so sharply without anyone noticing?"  
  
"I don't know, Aelia," He released a sigh as he spoke, obviously weary with the conversation. "We're to have a staff meeting after the Minister finishes with the Aurors, so I won't be able to come into London with you and Remus."  
  
"Speaking of," Aelia said with a bit of afterthought to her voice. A second later, Remus was almost certain she'd cast a magnifying charm on her voice, because it echoed fiercely throughout the entire house, rattling pictures on the walls. "REMUS JAMES LUPIN! GET DOWN HERE OR YOU'RE GOING TO MISS YOUR TRAIN!"  
  
Remus did a silent four count to be inconspicuous before he rushed into the kitchen, trying to look winded as if he'd taken the stairs in a run. "Sorry, mum, I did one last check to make sure I had all my supplies."  
  
His father was stationed at the table, a copy of the Daily Prophet rolled out in front of him, but as Remus entered, he folded it over and set it in his lap.  
  
Doing his best to pretend he hadn't noticed the strange behavior, Remus moved toward the table where his place was already set and his plate heaping with eggs and bacon.  
  
"Hurry up," his mother ordered. "It's getting cold."  
  
"Excited, son?" Mr. Lupin inquired as Remus settled into his seat and began to pick at his food. He never had much of an appetite for meat, especially after he became a werewolf (Remus always imagined that the meat had eyes and it was staring back up at him), but that was something his mother refused to understand.  
  
At that question, Remus risked a glance up onto the clock. It was ten o'clock, and the train departed at eleven. "Yes." Something was nagging at the back of his mind now, and with a rush, he asked probably much too quickly. "Can I see the Daily Prophet?"  
  
His father tensed for a moment, but his mother was quick to turn slightly from her place near the sink where dishes were busily washing themselves. "What business do you have reading the Prophet?"  
  
Remus fumbled mentally for a moment. As learned a boy as he was, he never read the paper. "...Quidditch finals." He finally croaked out.  
  
Quidditch was the only wizarding sport, and quite popular. It involved fourteen players on broomsticks, throwing a ball through fifty-foot high goal posts to score points while dodging attacks from other players and bludgers (smaller balls that are enchanted to fly around and knock players off their brooms).  
  
There was only one catch.  
  
"You've always hated Quidditch," his mother retorted with a suspicious narrowing of her eyes.  
  
"I don't...hate Quidditch, mum," Remus corrected patiently.  
  
"Yes, yes, you just think it's utterly barbaric and pointless. We've had this conversation before," she conceded with a wave of a spatula. Promptly, it was thrust at Remus' still full plate in emphasis. "You don't have time to read. Eat."  
  
Defeated, he sank forward and resumed picking at his plate. 


	4. The Hogwarts Express

4  
  
There was no fireplace at King's Cross Station, and the nearest one connected to the Floo network was located a half block east in an old, run down apartment complex.  
  
Remus and his mother left their house at half past ten, and after a substantial amount of struggle between the two of them, managed to carry Remus's trunk the distance to the train station as required (the entire time, Aelia muttered irritably about not being able to use a floatation charm for fear of being seen by muggles).  
  
As far as most muggles knew, at King's Cross Station, there was a platform nine, and a platform ten. A large, thick, brick wall divided them, and that was that. Actually, the wall was the entrance to the secret platform number 9 3/4, and that was Remus's final destination in London.  
  
Pausing near the wall, his mother took the time to dust off and straighten his clothes as Remus idly watched the muggles busily pass to and fro about them, some squawking about being late for their train while others pestered station workers, trying to find their platforms.  
  
"Now, I have some business to attend to, Remus, so I'm going to let you go here. You know how to get on the platform?" Aelia asked after straightening Remus's shirt to the best of her ability.  
  
"Yes, mum," Remus responded.  
  
"And you have everything? Robes, ticket? Underwear?"  
  
Turning a sudden shade of pink, Remus frowned slightly, angling attention up on her from where it had previously been settled on a muggle family. "Mum! I can pack a trunk!"  
  
"All right then," she breathed in a rush, looking as if she were about to cry. "I'll see you at Christmas!" She reached forward and pulled him into a tight hug before shooing him toward the platform.  
  
"Bye, mum." Remus spoke as he caught his breath again from the embrace. He then shifted his hold on the cart they'd acquired for his trunk and looked toward the very solid-looking wall that was the entrance. Ideally, you only had to walk through it, but even that was a bit nerve-racking.  
  
Deciding that if the worst thing that happened to him all year was walking into a wall, it might turn out all right, Remus braced himself and moved forward, pushing the cart along in front of him. He continued until he was within a foot of the brick wall and hesitated before pushing the cart very hard in front of him. It rolled out from his grasp and straight through the wall where it disappeared. Confidence built after that, Remus cast a final look of farewell back onto his mother before stepping through the wall after his cart.  
  
For the first time since he was bitten, he was free, going to do something he'd dreamt about for years.  
  
The buzz of King's Cross Station faded away once he was on the other side of the barrier, and was replaced by spirited chattering, owl hoots, and a high-pitched whistle that belonged to an enormous, bright red steam engine with the words "Hogwarts Express" emblazoned across its side in gold.  
  
Remus took a moment to look up, spotting a sign that read as "Platform 9 3/4," before providing a mute smile. Catching up to his cart (which had rolled to a stop a few feet in front of him), he began to push himself slowly through the crowds of witch and wizard families saying their goodbyes.  
  
Pulling his cart up alongside a train car, Remus poked his head inside, saw that it was empty and began to unload his trunk. Unfortunately, he realized a bit too late, it had been difficult to manage between him and his mother, and now he was alone.  
  
He'd been struggling with the trunk's bulk for a full minute before an extra set of hands suddenly appeared at the trunk's base (Remus had clambered up into the train car and begun to attempt to pull it on, as pushing had failed for him).  
  
"'oy there, Remus," It was the black-haired boy from Madam Malkin's. "Need a hand?"  
  
"Two would be better," Remus panted slightly in greeting, flashing Sirius a faint smile of appreciation.  
  
"Sure thing," Sirius said in response, bracing his shoulders and lifting the trunk off the ground. "Ready? One..two...pull!"  
  
Obediently, Remus jerked on the trunk's handle just as Sirius gave it a mighty heave forward. With their combined efforts, the trunk slide effortlessly into the cart in such a way that caught Remus off guard. He went tumbling backward and was deposited roughly on the carpeted floor of the train.  
  
He expected to hear Sirius laughing, but no such sound came. Instead, he inquired with a faint trace of concern. "You all right, there? Didn't your parents come to see you off?"  
  
Picking himself up, Remus dusted off his knees for a moment, taking a breather. "Thanks..and..er..no. My dad has a meeting at the Ministry, and my mum just saw me to the barrier."  
  
Sirius provided a sympathetic nod, leaning into the cart slightly from the outside to cast a look about it. "Yeah, mine didn't come either. I came with my cousin, Andromeda." He shifted slightly to jab his head in the direction of a tall, pretty girl (she had to be fourteen or fifteen) with long, black, curly hair that fell to her waist who was standing in a circle of other kids about the same age. "She was the first one in my family that wasn't put in Slytherin -- she's a Gryffindor -- and she and I are close, so my parents don't really like either of us."  
  
Remus frowned at that concept. Granted, his parents were a bit over reactive about his condition, but he never doubted that they liked him. "They don't like you because she's a Gryffindor?"  
  
Sirius frowned in shadow of Remus's own, furrowing his brows as he attempted to explain. "Well, it's a bit more complicated than that. Y'see, it's a bit of a family tradition to be in Slytherin... pureblood honor and all. Me and Andromeda don't think like the rest of them, though, so we're a bit of outcasts. Understand?"  
  
"I guess so," Remus stated at length, but the frown didn't fade much. "Sounds terrible, though."  
  
"I've gotten used to it," Sirius said with a shrug. "Hey, keep a spot open in your cart, all right? I've gotta' go talk to someone, but I'll come back once the train starts moving."  
  
"All right," Remus replied with a nod and a distant smile.  
  
"See you later," said Sirius, and with a nod of acknowledgement, he turned and fell into step towards the crowd of older students with his cousin.  
  
After Sirius had disappeared into the slowly thinning crowds of witches and wizards (Remus assumed they were either leaving or getting on the train), Remus turned back to his trunk and shoved it under one of the cushioned benches to stow it for the trip. He'd just settled down onto the bench above his trunk when he heard whirring clicks and the door through which he'd pulled his trunk onboard slammed shut.  
  
Similar slams about him suggested that all of the train's doors were doing this, and another blaring whistle signaled they'd be leaving soon. Fighting down a fresh surge of butterflies in his stomach, he took in a long breath and closed his eyes.  
  
A voice brought him out of his slight trance. "This cart full?"  
  
Remus opened his eyes. A short, stalky blond-haired boy with more freckles than open skin was peering in the doorway from the hall.  
  
Slowly, Remus shook his head and indicated the space on the bench beside him. "Just that spot's saved."  
  
Nodding, the blonde-haired boy tilted on a heel and called over his shoulder. "'ey, Michael! Found one!"  
  
Shortly after, a taller, gangly boy with a nose that looked like it had gotten squashed by a sledgehammer joined him. They stepped inside together.  
  
The freckle-faced boy was prompt then in sticking a hand out to Remus. "I'm David Gudgeon the second, but me friends call me Davey. This here's me mate, Michael McCoy."  
  
The taller boy just nodded in greeting as Remus reached out to shake Davey's hand. "I'm Remus Lupin."  
  
"Pleased t'meet'cha," said Davey, releasing Remus' hand and falling backwards to sit on the bench opposite him. "Yer a first year, huh?"  
  
Remus nodded slightly.  
  
"Yeah, us too." There was a momentary, awkward pause before Davey plowed on. "What house are ya' lookin' to be put in?"  
  
That question was easy enough, as Remus had put a lot of thought into it. "Ravenclaw," he provided with little hesitation.  
  
Davey's response was hardly reassuring. He sputtered out a laugh slightly, staring at Remus in a wild manner. "Ravenclaw? Why would anyone wanna' go there? It's gotta' be as bad as Slytherin!"  
  
Remus frowned slightly. "What makes you say that?"  
  
"Brainy gits, the lot of them," he explained with a slight shrug. "Hufflepuff's the only place to go, now. My brother's prefect there." A prefect was an upper-classman student charged with looking after the younger kids in their house. "Plus, they've got the best Quidditch team Hogwarts has seen since ole' McGonagall played."  
  
"I don't really like Quidditch," said Remus. Instantly, he realized it was a mistake.  
  
The silence in the cart was overwhelming.  
  
Davey stared at him for a long while, at first looking confused as if he hadn't understood him, and second, as if he were some sort of alien. "...maybe ya' do belong in Ravenclaw," he finally stated with a sobered tone. "What about yer friend?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"The person yer savin' a seat for."  
  
"Oh," Remus said after a moment of realization. "I don't know... most of his family's in Slytherin, but he says his cousin's a Gryffindor."  
  
"You're sittin' with a Black?" This time, it was Michael who chose to speak up, his voice bordering on shock.  
  
"..I don't know his last name," Remus began defensively.  
  
"I do!" Davey squeaked out, staring at Remus as if he was a lunatic. "Slytherin's full of Blacks, and they do gotta' Black in Gryffindor. It must be Sirius.. me Pop said he'd be in me year...just my luck, too."  
  
"What's wrong with Sirius?" Remus was getting a bit testy. He'd met Sirius twice and he seemed perfectly friendly to him.  
  
"Nothing, if yer into dark arts and pureblood superiority mumbo-jumbo," said Davey.  
  
"Sirius isn't like the rest of his family," Remus snapped irritably.  
  
"You can't avoid sumthin' like that," Davey softened his voice with a sigh as if he were now patronizing Remus and explaining it to him like he was a small child. "Me pop knows all about th' Blacks. Bad blood, he calls it. If there was ever a family of dark wizards, it's them. He even reckons they have somethin' to do with all those disappearances at the Ministry..."  
  
"Does he, now?" A voice from the hallway door asked. Sirius had returned and now was standing patiently in the doorway, leaning against it in a perfectly casual manner.  
  
Davey made a sound as if someone had crammed a toad down his throat. Stiffening, he jabbed Michael with his elbow. "Let's go, Michael." They rose as one and moved toward the door. Davey hesitated, however, casting a look back on Remus. "Hope to see you in Hufflepuff, Remus. Oh, and watch your back."  
  
He turned and left, colliding shoulders with Sirius in passing.  
  
The cart was deadly silent for a moment or two before Sirius dropped his arms from their fold across his chest and wearily stepped inside, closing the door behind him.  
  
Remus broke the silence first. "How long were you standing there?"  
  
"Long enough," responded Sirius. "Thanks. You didn't have to stand up for me like that."  
  
Remus tightened his lips for a moment, shaking his head. "I know how it feels to be persecuted for something out of your control."  
  
Sirius stared at him inquisitively, but didn't ask.  
  
Remus was relieved he didn't.  
  
----------------------------  
  
After the first few moments of awkwardness left in the wake of Davey Gudgeon's parting words, Remus and Sirius got along marvelously, speaking about anything and everything conceivable. Sirius was funny, polite, and honestly the first person Remus could remember willing to be his friend because he was him -- not out of sympathy because he was a werewolf.  
  
It was an elating feeling.  
  
Around one o'clock, a middle-aged, kind-faced witch came around with a cart full of different sorts of wizarding candies, but it was what was stacked neatly on the very bottom row and almost out of sight that caught Remus's attention; stacks of the Daily Prophet.  
  
Sirius was busy emptying his pocket change in exchange for sweets when Remus piped up, inquiring. "How much for a copy of the Prophet?"  
  
"Two knuts," the witch replied, meriting Remus a slight double take. He reckoned few students purchased a paper.  
  
Rising, he fished into his pocket hastily before holding out the two knuts as required.  
  
The witch traded out the knuts for a copy of the newspaper and after Sirius paid for the large amount of sweets he'd purchased, she closed the door and continued along her way.  
  
Remus retreated to his bench and hastily unrolled it to the front page.  
  
Sirius, who was halfway through cramming a cauldron cake into his mouth furrowed his brow faintly, leaning forward to glance down at the headline. "Why' yew 'uy 'a?"  
  
"My father's in the Ministry of Magic," Remus explained as he skimmed the main headline, saw nothing of interest, and began to scan the smaller article titles. There had to be something, somewhere. "..and supposedly, there's been a slew of mysterious disappearances going on lately. He reckons it has something to do with dark wizards."  
  
"So does Davey Gudgeon's dad, apparently," Sirius stated with a bit of ice to his tone, swallowing the bite of cake he'd been chewing.  
  
Ignoring that comment, Remus frowned, unable to find anything of interest. "He was reading the Prophet this morning and wouldn't let me read it. There has to be something here."  
  
A second scan-through of the list of articles proved him wrong, and with a slight sigh of confusion, he leaned backward, bracing his shoulders against the wall behind him. "He was reading something. I just wish I knew what."  
  
Sirius gave a languid shrug before tossing a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans onto the seat next to Remus. "Maybe it was something completely unrelated to what he was talking about."  
  
"Then why wouldn't he have let me have a go at it?"  
  
Again, Sirius shrugged unknowingly, finishing off his cauldron cake.  
  
At Sirius's prompting, Remus's search through the Prophet was brought to a close, but Remus still rolled the paper carefully and set it aside for future reading. They plowed back into general conversation and got a good laugh (well, Sirius did at least) when Remus's box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans contained not only a vomit, artichoke, and tripe bean, but an earwax, belly-button lint, and black pepper one as well.  
  
By the time Remus got over the burning sensation and watery eyes caused by the black pepper, he was finished with candy for a month and refused to eat anything else.  
  
A few hours later, a tall, dark-haired, and friendly fifth year poked his head into their cart and flashed a faint smile. "All right there, you two? I'm Frank Longbottom...Gryffindor Prefect for this year, and just thought I'd check in and tell you that we'll be arriving shortly so you might want to change into your robes."  
  
Nodding their thanks, Remus and Sirius shifted to begin retrieving their robes from neat folds alongside them so they might change.  
  
"..Just for reference," Frank continued after a momentary pause. "When we arrive at Hogwarts, just leave your things in your cart. Someone'll come along during the Sorting Ceremony and gather them up, and they'll be waiting in your dormitories after the feast. I'll leave you two at it, then." With little more than a nod, he vanished through the door again and closed it after him.  
  
"He seemed nice enough," Remus stated halfway through tugging off the heavy sweater he'd worn over a thin, white undershirt so that he might pull on the standard, gray, Hogwarts-issue one.  
  
"Bloody genius, according to Andromeda. They're in the same year, fifth, and she says Auror-school's already trying to recruit him." Sirius said, pulling off his shoes.  
  
An Auror was a highly trained wizard employed by the Ministry to locate and capture dark witches and wizards. They were easily the most powerful and intelligent students ever taken from a school, and required perfect marks on the O.W.L.s (Ordinary Wizarding Levels, tests students take in their fifth year at a school), and very similar marks on the N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests, similar, but high-leveled tests taken in the seventh and final year).  
  
"Whoa," Remus managed out in consideration, his respect for the prefect escalating sharply. "He hasn't even taken his O.W.L.s, yet."  
  
"Everyone's expecting him to get top marks," Sirius explained casually, rolling his shoulders forward in a shrug. "Only person that might do better than him's his girlfriend, Alice. Just as sharp as he is, supposedly, but I've only met her once." He hesitated for a moment, and then spoke, almost as an afterthought. "Just think of their kids. Going to be writing books and casting spells before they're two..."  
  
At that moment, the train's whistle blared, and they could feel the slight shift as it began to slow down. Taking their cues, they didn't speak anymore until they had both changed fully. 


End file.
